Carry on, Carry on, Simon Snow
by Crossroadsdeals
Summary: A bit of an alternate ending to Carry on


_**Simon**_

"You can have it." I say and I try to make eye contact. "Baz. You know you can have it."

I press my hand against his jaw and push him back. But I let my magic go. I let it flow into him from every pore. Baz sobs and abruptly stops fighting.

His body slumps against mine and I roll over and gently place him on the ground beneath me. He's shaking and clutching my arms hard.

 _ **Baz**_

I can't move. My body is taking in Simon's magic like a dry sponge would suck up water.

I can feel the energy sizzling through me. And the temperature is rising.

 _ **Simon**_

"Wow…" The Humdrum says, and I frown. "That's even better than fighting."

He feels close and I look up. He's standing right over us, rock solid in the moonlight.

"When did you learn to do that?" he asks. "It's like you turned on a tap."

"Did you take his magic?" I shout and the Humdrum giggles.

"Did I take his magic?" he asks. Teasingly. Like it's a ridiculous question.

"No. I don't take anything. I'm just what's left when you're done." He grins eerily and I frown up at him.

When I'm done? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

" _Simon_!" I hear Baz shouting beneath me. I look down. He's glowing too, now. His fangs have retracted, but he still seems to be in pain. He squirms and grip my arms so tight it hurts.

"It's too much!"

I immediately let go and take distance from him. But the magic keeps flowing. A glowing bond tying us together. I hear Baz groan with discomfort.

Shit. It _is_ like a tap. I close my eyes and focus on shutting it down.

Through my eyelids I can see the light die down and I don't open my eyes before it's all gone. The magic is safely stored inside me again.

"Baz?" I cry through the soft darkness. " _Baz_?"

I hear a faint whimper somewhere to my left and crawl in the direction of the noise.

Baz is lying on his back in a puddle of wet snow, one hand loosely clutching at his chest, in which I can clearly see a warm glow shining though the skin and bones. His eyes are tightly shut and his face is contorted with pain.

"Simon…" he gasps, his other hand fumbling weakly in my direction.

"Oh my god, Baz…" I whisper, crawling over to him. "What's happening?"

It looks like a fire burning beneath his skin. Baz is tossing and gasping for air.

"I don't know." He groans. "I think–"

But what he thinks is lost as he rolls over and begin coughing and retching violently.

A string of curses escape his lips and some are laden with magic. But without his wand they have no effect.

"Baz…" I inch closer to him and touch his hand. He flinches and pulls away from me immediately.

"Damnit, Snow! Be careful!" he snarls, curling up and cradling his hand.

"What?" I ask, completely at a loss. "Baz, are you hurt?"

The magic is at the tip of my fingers at the mere thought and my mind is running through every healing spell I can think of.

"Snow…" Baz mutters. His voice is faint and flat.

"Don't speak…" I whisper, slowly crawling over to him. "Hold on."

I look down at him. He still has his eyes shut. He still seems in pain. But the glow in his chest is dimmer now and his body is beginning to relax.

Carefully, I put a hand on his cheek. Baz writhes and screams in agony. The glow flares up in his chest again, and I can see it pulsing at the back of his throat. Alarmed, I pull back, staring at him. The skin where I touched him is crumbling and peeling off, like burning paper. Embers glow dimly along the cracks.

"Oh my God!" I gasp, bending over him again. Baz leans over, kicking me away.

" _Back off, Snow_!" he cries, his voice cracking with the strain, as he presses the sleeve of his coat against his injured cheek. I don't know what to do. What's happening to him? Oh god, is he dying? Is this what a dying vampire looks like? My breath catches in my throat at the thought. Was it the Humdrum? Baz gasps in pain and pushes himself up a little.

"No, don't move!" I whisper frightened. Baz stops, collapsing back onto one arm. I try to approach him again, but he looks up, sending me a fierce glare.

"Stay. Back." He says, his voice seeping through clenched teeth. He falls back on his stomach again with a heavy sigh.

"But what's happening?" I ask. "What did he do to you?"

"Not him." Baz gasps. "You."

I freeze. What?

"It was you, Snow." Baz mutters into the rapidly melting snow around him. Now I can clearly see waves of steam emitting from his body. He coughs.

"Your magic. You did this."

"No…" I whisper tearfully. "No, it can't be!"

Beside me Baz grunts in pain and curls up in the wet snow surrounding him.

"But, I… It didn't hurt you before!" I say desperately. "Baz…"

But he doesn't appear to hear me. His body writhes and he lets out a half-smothered groan. His breaths escape his lips in irregular gasps. Every time he takes in air the glow in his chest flares up. It _is_ fire. I feel tears well up uncontrollably in my eyes. _Dear God, please no…_

"Baz…" I crawl over to him again, my hand hovering uncertainly over his trembling body. I want so bad to touch him. To suck out the fire and the pain and make it better. But I can't. The tears escape my eyes and flood down my cheeks, dripping onto my already soaked knees.

"I'm sorry…" I whisper. "God, I'm _so_ _ **sorry**_!"

"Snow…"

I look up, blinking away tears. Baz is looking at me, and I realize he's crying too. Our hands are less than an inch apart and I can see his skin sizzling at the fingertips

"Don't…" he says, fingers twitching in my direction. He wants so bad to touch me, and it makes everything so much worse.

"You tried to help. You _did_ help. It wasn't your fault." He gasps and close his eyes tight, withdrawing his hand.

"But I don't understand!" I say. "Last time… I didn't hold back and you were fine!"

"Consciously." Baz mutter under his breath.

"What?

"You said you didn't hold back consciously." He coughs. "You have a remarkable talent to not hurt other people with your powers, Simon Snow."'

I think for a moment. Maybe he has a point. Back then it was controlled. Now… Now I'd just let it lash out. And I'd let it flow into Baz. No holding back. A faint sob escape my lips.

"That kid…" I look up as I hear Baz mutter.

"The Humdrum?" I say, suddenly filled with a searing anger. "What about him?"

"He looked like you." Baz says. "Back when we first met. Straight down to that infuriating little ball of yours."

"Yeah." I growl. "It's a disguise of his."

Baz eyes me intently.

"Are you sure?"

I frown.

"What do you mean?"

"You and that kid…" Baz mutters, closing his eyes, frowning. "There's a connection."

"Connection?" I echo. "There's no connection! I'm like an atomic bomb of magic! And he… he's _nothing_!"

Baz looks up and meet my gaze.

"And what do bombs leave behind when they go off?" he asks.

Holes. The answer presents itself to me with icing revelation. Craters. Empty space. _Nothing_.

"Every time you go off…" Baz begins, but stops. In the distance we hear frightened voices. Baz's parents. Baz casts me an urgent glance.

"You need to go." He says. I don't argue. I Just get up and run.

 _ **Baz**_

By the time they find me I'm so warm I can focus on little else. My stepmother reaches me first, calling me anxiously as she falls to her knees by my side. She puts her hand on my arm, but retracts it immediately.

"My lord, Basil, you're burning up!" she cries. I groan.

"Literally…" I mutter. I'm pretty sure that most of the snow around me has vanished by now. I wonder if _Snow_ is gone too… Most likely. Nobody's addressing him.

I hear my stepmother sob in fear and she takes my hand, despite the immense heat emitting from it.

"Alright, hold on." She whispers. A moment later I feel her wand on my chest.

" _ **Let it go!**_ " she cries. An icy chill wash through my body and I gasp. But it's not enough.

" _ **Hell freezes over! Ice, ice, baby!**_ "

I twist and groan with discomfort, but the magic is working. The icy cold is driving out the blazing heat left by Simon's magic.

My stepmother keeps casting and at some point it becomes too much for me to handle, and I drop out of consciousness.

When I wake up sometime later, I can feel ice crystals lingering on my lips and face.

Someone is cradling my head in their lap and I can hear healing spells being cast – feel their effect on my body – but the voice is distorted and faint.

My body feels chilled to the bone, but the cold is better than that searing heat. I feel weak. Broken. But no longer dying.

My eyelids flutter and I open my eyes slowly, looking around.

I'm lying in the backseat of our car. My father is driving and my stepmother is leaning over me with her wand pointed at my chest, rapidfiring healing spells under her breath. When she notices I'm awake she stops abruptly.

"Oh thank goodness!" she breaths, bending down and kissing my forehead softly. Her lips burn against my ice-cold skin but it feels nice.

"How are you feeling?" she asks eyeing me anxiously. I give a faint groan.

"Awful…" I mutter, closing my eyes. What little light there is is enough to make my eyes water.

"Basilton." My father address me from the front seat.

"What happened?" He asks. I frown. "Out in the woods?"

I groan, twisting my body a little, trying to find a more comfortable position for myself. I'm not really ready to talk about that just yet.

That thing emptied me. Left me starving. In agony. But Snow almost killed me. His magic scorched me from the inside.

He broke the circuit. The connection we'd had. He overcharged it and it broke. And now… As a result… he could no longer touch me. A hard knot forms in my chest at the thought, and I squirm. Bitter tears form in my eyes.

His magic was fire and it had almost destroyed me.

"Basilton." My father attempts again, but stepmother breaks him off.

"Don't bother him with this now, Malcolm." She says, pulling a hand gently through my hair. "Right now he needs to rest. You'll have plenty of time to ask him out later."

I feel extremely grateful towards her and lean my head against her open palm.

The next time I open my eyes I'm in a bed. I look around. I recognize the room from a lodge we have up north, and I wonder why they'd bring me here rather than just take me back to our house. Why go through all this extra trouble?

"Basil?" I turn my head at the sound of the voice.

My stepmother is sitting in a chair at the side of my bed. Her face is pale and drawn and she eyes me concerned.

"How are you feeling, darling?" she asks, reaching out and pushing stray strands of hair out of my face. Her hand burns against my skin, but not in a bad way. It feels pleasant and I don't want her to stop.

I give some thought to her question. How _do_ I feel?

"Cold." I conclude, resting my cheek against her hand. "Tired. Hungry. Thirsty."

"Hold on, dear, I'll turn up the heat in here." She straightens up, removing her hand from my cheek.

" _ **Some like it hot**_." Her voice is clear and smooth as she leads her wand in a semi-circle around her. The temperature in the room climbs rapidly by several degrees. I sigh, burrowing deeper under my covers. After all the freezing spells the warmth is a welcoming feeling.

"Better, dear?" stepmother asks, looking at me again.

"Yes." I say, eyeing her gratefully." Thank you. For everything. You've been remarkable."

Her concerned mask softens a little and melts into a humble smile.

"I'm just glad you're alright, Basil." She says, stroking a hand across my cheek again. "I was worried for a while you wouldn't make it."

I give a faint nod, closing my eyes. I'd been worried about that too.

I'd almost fallen asleep again when she eventually breaks the silence.

"Basil…" her voice is a soft hushed whisper and she ruffles her fingers gently through my hair.

"What happened? In the woods?"

I frown and pull away a little.

"It's alright if you want to wait." She then says. "I'm just worried. I want to know what did this to you."

"I was attacked…" I begin and she falls silent. "It was the Humdrum. I think. It's just… I don't really know what happened myself."

"Was… Simon with you?" she asks, her voice soft but expectant. I nod.

"He found me. He helped me."

"Where did he go?" she asks. I could tell her. She'd understand. But in the end I shake my head.

"I don't know…" I mutter. "I didn't see him take off."

Tears well up in my eyes and I try my best to hold them back, but it's not easy.

"You really care about him, don't you?" she asks, pulling a hand gently through my hair. I manage a stiff nod.

"Then I hope he's safe, wherever he is." She says, and I can hear her get up. My heart swells with gratitude. She does understand. Or she tries to at least.

"Get some rest, dear." She says. "Get warm. Let the healing spells take effect. Your father and I will be waiting downstairs. You come down when you feel ready."

She makes to leave the room and I straighten up a little.

"What are we doing here, by the way?" I ask. She pauses and looks at me. Her expression sends shivers down my spine.

 _ **Simon**_

My magic is pulsing freely throughout my being. If I'd ever had any way of controlling it there was no trace of it now. I stumble through the woods half blind and find the road leading away from the Pitch estate. I can feel it now. The dry emptiness. The _crater_ I'd left behind. The tears come streaming down my cheeks as I run. I hardly even feel the cold, piercing the sopping wet, torn pyjamas I'm wearing.

What am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to stop something I was responsible for creating in the first place?

At the end of the road I pause, out of breath.

All the attacks from the Humdrum… They'd been directed at me. At Watford and the things I would give the most to preserve… It all made sense now. The Humdrum hadn't wanted to kill me. He'd wanted me to go off. So I would make more magicless holes in the world.

Fuck… _Fuck!_

A sore scream escape my lips and I tumble to my knees.

A faint sound catch my ear and I fall quiet, straining to listen. A car. It's coming from the road leading up to the Pitch Manor. _Shit_.

I scramble into the brush at the side of the road and hunch down just in time to see two cars speed off northwards. My breath catches in my throat at the sight of the cars. Is Baz in one of them? Is he okay? The tears run warm down my cheeks. I'd never meant to hurt him. I only wanted to help. Why am I such a fucking mess?!

I get to my feet and walk back onto the road again. London. I need to get to London. I need to get this mess sorted out. I need _Penelope_.

I close my eyes. Calling my magic isn't hard. It's already there. It never retracted. _Wish I could fly_. I think. The back of Baz's pyjamas tear open and large, leathery things unfold from my back. There are no feathers this time. The wings I have summoned are a deep red, and accompanied by a large, red devil's tail.

I shake my head. No matter. Then I take off. Baz told me to go, so I do.

I have to get to London.

Everything between here and there is a blur. I don't know how I ended up in Penelope's bed, but she seems kinda spooked about it. She asks about what kinds of spells I used to get the wings and I have no idea what to answer.

"Simon, what's the matter?" she then asks, looking at me in the way only she knows how to do. Soft and piercing at the same time.

"I…" I hesitate. What am I supposed to say? I am the Humdrum? It was me all along?

"Simon…" Penny puts a hand on my arm.

"Penelope…" I begin again. "I… The holes… The Humdrum… I think you were right."

"Right?" Penny says and for the first time she doesn't seem to be proud of hearing that or actually following me at all.

"What do you mean right?"

"About me!" I blurt out. "About the Humdrum. Penny, I think I…"

A frightened sob escape my lips. I had hurt Baz. My magic had burned him from the inside. It had crumbled his skin like dry paper! Was he alright? Was he alive? I have to know. I look Penny in the eye.

"Have you heard anything about… about Baz?" I ask. "And his family?"

"Simon, why are you asking me this?" Penny asked, taking my hand. "You're the one who saw him last, remember?"

She looks genuinely scared for me now. Not just concerned.

"I know." I say "I know, I just… things got a little out of hand and I… I had to leave."

"A little bit out of hand?" Penny asks. "You mean the hole in Hampshire? Simon, what happened?"

"You've heard about the hole?" I ask, and I feel genuinely surprised. Penny nods.

"Yes. My dad got the call this morning. It's the largest hole yet. All of Hampshire is gone. The Pitches… they've had to leave."

"I know, I saw them." I say. "Have you heard anything about… any… injury or… or death?"

"What?" Penny eye me shocked. "No! As far as I know all of them are still kicking. Simon what's going on? Why would you ask that?"

"It's complicated." I reply, the words blurting out of me so fast it sounds like a jumbled mess. "You're certain nobody died?"

"Merlin, Simon. Yes. I'm sure. Now tell me what's going on. What happened in Hampshire last night?"

I lower my head.

"The Humdrum came." I say silently. "It attacked us. It turned Baz against me."

Penny gasps, putting her hands before her mouth.

"Did he attack you?" she breathed.

"He tried not to," I mutter. "But… yeah…"

"Did he…" Penny trails off, but it's obvious what she means.

"No." I reply, shaking my head. "No, I fought him off."

"You fought him _off_?" Penny exclaims surprised.

"Well, not exactly." I hurry to say. "I gave him some of my magic. So he could fight off the Humdrum.

Penny…" I hesitate. "You were right about the Humdrum and me. He looks like me for a reason… I… he's what's left when I go off… All those holes… it's not him it's me."

"What?" Penny breathes. I look at her.

"It's me, Penny! I'm the Humdrum. Or… he's me. We're connected. Every time I go off another hole, a _crater_ is created, and he grows stronger. He _talked_ this time!"

"We need to investigate this in greater detail." Penny says, grabbing my hand. I pull my hand back as she intends to pull me along.

"We need to go to the Mage." I reply. She freezes, shuddering. Then she turns to me.

"Let's not jump to conclusions, Simon." She says. "If what you say is true…"

"It _is_ true!" I exclaim. "Penny, I'm the greatest threat to magic!"

"Look, we don't know that! Simon–"

"We _do_!" I cry. "We've always known! I just wish I'd realized it before."

"Simon…" I push past her and head for the exit. " _Simon_!"

 _ **Baz**_

My family wants me to stay in bed until the healing spells are in full effect and we get a doctor to look at me. But fucked if I'm going to do that when Simon Snow is off somewhere, undoubtedly doing something incredibly stupid.

I sit up and swing my legs out of bed. My body feels heavy and sluggish but operational.

I stagger to my feet and catch myself on the bedpost. Crowley, I am out of shape. I look up and catch a glimpse of my reflection in the window opposite the bed. I have probably – with the possible exception of when I was trapped in an actual fucking coffin – never looked more like a vampire in my entire life. My skin is the type of grey you'd find in a rainy sky. Dark rings under my eyes. I realize my fangs are showing and I retract them with a shudder of disgust.

Then I turn away from the window and cast a glance around the room, looking for my wand.

I spot it on the table beside the bed, lying next to a plate of food and a large opaque cup of dark liquid.

I walk over to it and pick it up. The smell is unmistakable; Blood. A good amount of it. Had they actually gone through the trouble of catching a small animal and draining it for me?

I feel equal parts disgusted and eternally grateful as I put it to my lips and take a big gulp. I drop eating and focus on finishing the blood. The blood is more important. When I've licked the cup as clean as it will get I grab my wand and head over to the window.

" _ **I feel pretty**_!" I say and the suit from the day before shoot out from a suitcase by the door. I change quickly and open the window, tightening my tie as I look down. It is only one floor but it'll still break both my legs if I try to just jump.

I cast _**Float like a butterfly**_ and sail through the air into the snow laden yard below. The effort takes its toll on me and I stumble onto the ground and land hard on my hands and knees, coughing violently. I feel sick. But I do my best to shake it off and get to my feet. I need to find Snow.

I circle around to the front of the house and find the car parked in the drive.

I sink into the driver's seat and tap my wand at the wheel.

" _ **Rev it up**_!" I say and the Car roars into life.

Without another thought, or backwards glance I pull out of the drive and head for London.

When I pull up at the Bunce residence I'm on the verge of collapsing. I've frequently used spells on the car, roads and other vehicles to get to London faster and it has left me drained of energy. I stumble my way up to their door and knock hard. Penelope Bunce opens, and looks at me, a mix of shock and concern on her face.

"Basil!" she says. "You look awful!"

I sigh silently, clinging to the door frame.

"Yes Bunce, thank you for your keen observation." I say. "Where's Snow? Have you seen him?"

Bunce looks at me in a way that makes me very uneasy.

"Well, he was here, but…" she trails off and I glare at her.

"Was?" I ask. "What happened? Where is he now?"

Bunce squirms and twist her hands in a fashion I have never seen her do before.

"I don't know!" she says. "He just left!"

"Left where?" I demand.

"I don't know!" she blurts. "To see the Mage, I think."

"And you didn't stop him?" I exclaim and she jumps. I grab her arm.

"Well, come on." I say, taking a firm grip around her wrist. "We have to find him."

I drag her along to my car and push her into the passenger seat.

When I take place behind the wheel I catch a glimpse of myself in the rear-view mirror. I notice a large, uneven mark on my cheek, not unlike what one might find on cracked porcelain.

It was where Snow had touched me. He'd scorched me with his magic.

I run my fingers across it. It gets all tingly beneath my touch.

"What's that?" Bunce asks me.

"Nothing." I reply, pulling myself together and putting the car in gear.

"Doesn't look like nothing." Bunce presses on, leaning in to examine me more closely.

"Well, it's not important right now!" I exclaim, pushing her away. "Are you going to help me find Snow or what?"

This seems to snap her back to reality and she nods vigorously.

"Of course!" she says. "Yeah, Definitely."

"Good." I say, leading the car onto the road.

 _ **Simon**_

I'm not sure how I knew the way to Watford. Maybe it was my magic pulling me home. I land in the snow before the moat.

The gates open several meters before I actually reach them. My magic is completely off the hook. I wonder if I'm creating a new hole this way or if I'm just making an existing one even bigger. I make my way through the snow towards the Weeping Tower. I can see the Mage's Jeep parked outside the slanting tower along with Dr. Wellbelove's Volvo. A soft frown form on my brow. What's he doing here?

But I guess it really doesn't matter. Maybe it's even a good thing. Dr. Wellbelove might be able to know what to do with me.

I'm on my way to the tower entrance when I hear a commotion at the White Chapel. I turn my head and notice a light in a tower I've never seen lit before.

Were they up there? I change my path and head over to the Chapel.

As I reach the doors and push them open every window in the Chapel explode outwards. Whatever it is that's happening it doesn't look good. I hope I'm not too late…

To stop whatever needs to be stopped.

To help whoever needs help.

I run through the Chapel towards the back, and spot a trapdoor in the ceiling that I've never seen before. I flap my wings – the wings are still there – once to get a boost and grab onto the ledge up there, pulling myself up.

The Mage is there, wand aloft, towering over a bleeding figure. At first I think it might be Baz and my heart stops for just a second. But no. The figure is too large, I can't quite discern who it is but they're bleeding pretty badly. The Mage is muttering a spell and I don't want to interrupt his focus.

As I take a step closer I realize it's Ebb lying bleeding on the floor and I can't help a faint cry escaping my lips.

The Mage stops casting and turns to me.

"Simon!" he exclaims.

"No don't stop!" I cry running over to Ebb's lifeless body. There's so much blood.

"Keep going!" I say. "Help her!"

The Mage shakes his head, lowering the wand.

"I can't." he says. "But Simon. You're here. I can still help you."

A tear loosens from the corner of my eye and falls, merging with Ebb's blood. I reach for her lifeless hand.

"You can't." I whisper. "No one can."

"Simon…" The Mage crouches down next to me and attempts to put a hand on my shoulder. I shy away.

"My magic… My power…" I sob. "I'm a monster."

"Simon, you're not a monster." He says calmly and I straighten up, eyeing him fiercely.

"I am!" I cry. More tears join the first one. "I'm the Humdrum! It's all because of me! How much destruction have I caused? How many people have had to move because of me?!"

"I know…" The Mage says soothingly. "I know… Simon. But we can still fix this."

I stare dumbstruck at him.

"What do you mean you know?" I ask, getting up and taking a step away. "You knew about this? About me?"

"Simon…"

"Don't 'Simon' Me!" I exclaim. "Tell me! Did you know?"

He nods.

"Ever since the first time…" he mutters.

My heart sinks in my chest, but I still feel it beating hard and fast. He knew… He knew all along. Why didn't he do something? Why didn't he stop me?

"You knew?" I say. "And you just let it happen?"

"I knew Simon." He confirms. "But it's alright now. I can fix it. Take my hand."

He reaches his hand out for me, but I hesitate. What does he mean fix it?

"Simon. It will be okay. Everything will be okay. Just give me your magic."

I'm not sure I like the way he uses my name so much…

I take a cautious step forward.

"Give you… My magic?"

"Simon. this _will_ _work_!"

"Oh, it _will_ work!" says my voice. But I'm not the one saying it. I turn and it – no, _he_ – stands right behind me. The Humdrum. He looks at me and stops bouncing his ball.

"Since when do you have wings?" he asks. "I will never have wings. Or Magic… Or a proper ball." He tosses it to me and I wring away from the Mage, catching it.

"I'd like a football, really."

I turn to face him properly.

"I think it's time to end this." I say, walking over to him, ignoring the Mage calling my name.

He – me… what I was… what got left behind – cocks his head.

"What will you do? Go off on me?" he asks. "I think we both know how that will end."

"I won't go off on you." I reply, kneeling down. "I'm going to end this. I'll give you all I've got. You deserve to feel the magic too. I'm sorry."

"You're _sorry_?" he asks bewildered. The Mage is calling me warningly, but I'm not listening. Whatever he intends to do it won't work.

I let my magic go and it flows into him. The Humdrum.

There's only one way this can end.

For them.

For me.

For _him_.

 _ **Baz:**_

We reach the gates of Watford and I can feel the magic vibrating in the air. It's like nothing I've ever felt before. Is this Snow? Is he doing this?

We stumble out of the car and head towards the White Chapel, following fresh footprints in the snow. On our way there we find Agatha, running full speed the other way.

Bunce attempts to stop her, but Agatha does not stop running. She makes absolutely no sense and eventually Bunce lets her go.

In the next moment we are hit with an insane charge of magic that sends us both off our feet. The centre of impact appears to be a large, glowing spot shining from the gaping windows of a tower in the Chapel. I get to my feet and pull Bunce up behind me. There's absolutely no time to lose.

We reach the Chapel and head for a trapdoor in the ceiling towards the back.

There's no ladder up.

I grab Bunce and lift my wand.

" _ **On love's light wings!**_ " I cry. This is a particularly difficult spell to cast. It will only work if you understand the Great Vowel shift of the Sixteenth century. Or if you're madly, deeply in love.

We sail through the air into the room above. The first thing I see is Snow, kneeling, with his hands on the Humdrum's shoulders, as if he's about to tell him something incredibly important. The magic is lashing around them but it all flows into the Humdrum, like light being sucked into a black hole.

As we watch the shape of the little boy fades. He's disappearing as more magic flows into him. I can feel his signature dryness in the air, but it goes as the magic goes.

Eventually he's completely gone and Snow slumps forward and doesn't get up.

I am livid. I can't tell if my fangs are showing or nor and I don't much care.

When the Mage stoops towards Snow I act, drawing my wand and stepping between them.

" _ **Back off**_!" I cry, and the man is thrown off the ground and through one of the already broken windows.

Bunce lets out a terrified scream, but I pay her no mind. I turn to Snow.

"Simon." I say, sliding to my knees by his side. His head jerks up. He's alive. An incredible weigh lift off my chest.

"Baz?" he says groggily. "Baz, No! Don't! Don't come any closer!"

I ignore him.

"Shhh."

"I worry–"

"Don't."

"But–"

"Simon."

"Baz?"

"Here."

I put my hands on his cheeks and pull in close, meeting his lips.

 _ **Simon:**_

I cling to Baz. I'd let it all go. All my magic. It all went into the Humdrum. To seal the hole and fill in the crater.

It's the way it has to be.

For them.

For him.

 _For us._

 _ **Baz:**_

Simon is crying. I don't stop kissing him. He collapses against me and I hold him tightly, never intending to let go. If we die like this, so be it.

Simon is muttering between kisses.

"It's all gone, Baz… My magic. I let it all go. To fill in the gap and save the world of Mages. And… And to touch you again. I just… I just wanted to…"

He gives into my kisses then and clings to my arms.

"It's alright." I mutter. "It's going to be fine. Who needs magic? I'm going to turn you into a vampire and make you live with me forever."


End file.
